A Passing Traveller
by chinahouse
Summary: When Persephone finds a strange and unusual bed of flowers in the forests of Olympus, the flora immediately enchant and bewilder her. Determined to discover their alien origins, she never expects to meet one of the very same unsavoury characters her mother has always warned her about deep within the woods... (A "The Game Has Changed" Spin-off)


A PASSING TRAVELLER

_NOTE: The events of this story occurred prior to the events of The Game Has Changed. They occur in the same universe and they are canon to the main story. _

Deep in the forests behind the King's Palace, a bed of unusual flowers existed.

It was small and definitely placed with intention. Each flower had been planted an equal distance from the next, offering them enough room to grow, and the trees above them shielded their odd forms from direct sunlight.

Persephone found the peculiar flora on a day where her exploration had taken her far from the palace grounds. Delighted, intrigued and frightened by the bizarre shapes of their petals and the fleshy constitution of their stems, she decided to keep their existence a secret.

What she had found was a wonder, an enchanting patch of preternatural radiance that would not bend to her will or powers. It was _her_ secret.

Surely, if she told her mother, Demeter would swoop in to investigate the strange plants. Who knew then how long it would be before their aesthetics drove her to destroy them?

Besides, Persephone enjoyed keeping little secrets. The forests of Olympus were full of them: bathing nymphs, drunken, prancing maenads and copulating centaurs…a landscape full of the titillating, earthy secrets of nature that her mother would never allow her to relish.

Making sure to brush leaves over her tracks and leave the area undisturbed, Persephone bid the odd flowers a farewell and prayed they would go unnoticed until her next visit. But it was only several days later that she returned to find the flowers, grey, limp and wilting.

'No…' she muttered to herself as she approached the withered bed.

Streaming through the leaves, not even the sun's warm light could illuminate their little ashen forms. For the first time, Persephone dared to bend down and touch one.

Before, they had stood tall with such life that she felt apprehensive to touch them, should their gentle gazes become unkind. They were proud flowers – or at the very least planted by a proud gardener. When she met them, they would not speak to her of their origins or make her privy to their planter's name. Beautiful, bizarre and ever loyal to their master, they were not hers to command or hers to probe.

But now, their roots grasping for life, they seemed grateful for her touch. Mustering up the energy within herself, Persephone tried once more to use her powers to revive them.

'This has worked on so many of your kind,' she said, focusing her strength, 'why will you not…?'

The bud of strange flower gazed up at her, dry and weathered. They would not come back to life. Not at her command.

Was it selfish, Persephone wondered, of her to demand that they recover their beauty for her sake? Their befuddling appearance or their clandestine existence – which was it that drew her towards them? There was so little of the realms she knew and so much more to discover.

'And yet you've died before you could utter to me your names…' she whispered, gently brushing the diaphanous petals of a shrunken flower.

The sun's glow upon her shoulders, Persephone suddenly felt a warmth rush through her until her ears burned. Shooting up, she made up her mind.

She would find a way to revive these flowers before their forms could disappear into the soil. Gathering her dress and bidding the flowers another farewell, she darted through the forest towards her mother's temple. In her private quarters, beneath her bed, in her cupboards were a slew of potions, tonics and concoctions that she had researched and brewed herself.

Somewhere among them, there would be the answer that would bring her new friends back to life!

*.*.*

The sound of tinkling glass followed Persephone as the vials and bottles in her pouch jostled about with each step.

It had taken two days of fruitless research trying to discover the origins of the peculiar flowers. None of her texts, scripts or books offered her any insight and subsequently, finding a solution to their sudden demise was near impossible.

So, she decided to bring along anything she could carry.

A little out of breath and with strands of her auburn hair clinging to her damp temples, she arrived just a few feet away from the hidden location.

But she was not alone.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed the presence of another. Her mother had warned her of finding strange characters wandering the forests but had never mentioned how to confront one should the situation call for it. In fact, Persephone was instructed to flee any unfamiliar figures without hesitation.

But, had she fled from the unknown every time she encountered it, she would know nothing of the strange flowerbed she had discovered.

Drawing in a deep breath and squaring her shoulders the way she had seen the King do before, she strode forward with quaking knees until the hidden space came into full view.

Towering over the flowerbed was a tall figure, donning a dark, wide-brimmed gardening hat and gardening gloves. To Persephone's disbelief, the flowers had regained their vitality and gently swayed in the breeze that swept over the forest.

'You—!' she gasped, clutching the strap of her pouch, 'Just a few days ago these flowers were dead! Did you—!'

Persephone was suddenly made aware of the loudness of her own voice when a nearby bird flew into the air with a screech. The dark figure did not even seem to flinch.

'Did you…' Persephone approached slowly, her palms becoming damp, 'did you help them? Grow back, I mean. Are they yours? Did you plant them?'

The gardening hat had an equally dark mesh material that hung from the entire brim, obscuring their figure's face from Persephone's view. They said nothing and stood as still as she had found them.

Growing uneasy, Persephone fiddled with frayed edges of her pouch.

'I'm sorry,' she laughed in spite of herself, 'I know I'm asking a lot of questions, I just…I found these flowers a few days ago, you see. Are they yours? Their quite exquisite…'

Suddenly, the dark figure crouched down, inspecting the flowers carefully.

'They will continue to die.' Their voice sent chills through Persephone's bones. It was deep and resonant. A man's voice.

'What...?'

'For as long as I do not return,' he touched the stem of a flower, 'they will continue to die.'

The dark figure stood up, paying little mind to Persephone's presence.

'I believe it is the soil.'

Drawn perhaps to the mystery of his hidden face or the echo of his voice, Persephone slowly approached the man again. Her mother would be mortified to see her act so carelessly, but this was an unfamiliar figure from which she was not prepared to flee just yet.

'The soil?' she said glancing at the flowerbed.

'These flowers require a particular soil to grow it seems,' he said, 'and very little sunlight. Almost none. As I anticipated, they will not thrive here even in the shade.'

Persephone's eyes widened with wonder as threads of glittering sunlight streamed through the leaves above them and fell onto the figure's form. She stood less than a foot beside him now, inspecting the mesh covering that obscured his head.

Seemingly startled at her sudden proximity to him, the dark man inched to the side, offering some distance between them.

'What is your name?' she asked. He turned to her beneath the mesh.

He said nothing at first but Persephone could tell that he was looking at her. Although she could not meet it, she could tell that his gaze was not an unkind.

'You don't know it?'

'No.'

The man turned toward the flowerbed.

'I'm just a passing traveller.' He said. Retrieving a small pair of gardening sheers from his pocket, he crouched again and went to work snipping the winding thorns off of a flower's stem.

'A passing traveller?' she watched him, 'I didn't know Olympus had many of those. My mother says our kingdom is heavily guarded. That's how King Zeus likes it, anyway.'

'I see.' He replied. As he snipped away, Persephone crouched beside him, hugging her knees.

'Are you on a roster or something? Of exceptional travellers? Is that why I should know your name? Or are you a famous landscaper for the palaces?'

'I do nothing quite that special,' he said. His voice had barely changed or inflected at all. Persephone gazed at him.

'Will you not tell me your name?' she said after some time.

'When I am gone from here, you won't have any use for it,' he pushed the discarded thorns back into the soil, 'so I won't give it to you.'

Persephone whined as he returned his sheers to his pocket.

'Where are you going after this?' she watched him stand up, 'You said they will die if you do not continue to return.'

'They will,' he dusted his hands, 'but this was for research purposes and I have collected the necessary data. Now that it is done—'

Persephone shot up.

'I also like research!' she beamed, patting her pouch, 'In here are loads of potions that _I_ made. In fact, I'm sure there is something here that could keep your flowers alive for as long as you're gone.'

The dark man said nothing for some time. Persephone felt his eyes on her again.

'It's the soil. Nothing in that pouch will revive them when they die.'

'No?' she twisted it's strap in her hand, 'Is it…do they need soil where you're from?'

He nodded.

'And…you won't tell me where that is, will you?'

'Exactly.'

Persephone sighed. For some time, no words were exchanged between them and the chirps of bird filled the silence instead. Despite the gap in their conversation, the dark gardener made no effort to fill it. She was sure that beneath that mesh veil were a keen pair of ears that relished in the hoots and croaks of the forest, just as she did. Sunlight streamed into her eyes and she squinted to see him. Something occurred to her.

'Why do you wear that hat with the veil? Is it because of the sun?'

'Yes. It's too bright here.'

'Then you're a bit like your flowers,' she giggled, 'strange and photophobic.'

'…I suppose so.'

She smiled. Persephone did not expect him to laugh at her joke and was little glad that he didn't. It would not suit him if he did.

'You know,' she began, 'this place was my secret. Even if only for a few days I felt…special that I had found it. I've discovered all sorts of secrets in these forests that my mother adamantly believes are not for my eyes, but you and these flowers have been the most…confounding. I'll be sorry to see you both disappear.'

The dark gardener's looming figure stood as still as the trees around him as he watched her. Retrieving something from within himself, he finally spoke.

'These flowers,' he said steadily, 'are being grown for the sake of a friend.'

Persephone's eyes widened as her belly fluttered. Colour spread across her cheeks.

'Hopefully,' he turned to the flowerbed, 'that uncovers one more secret of the forest for you. I will take my leave now.'

Offering the soil one last pat with the toe of his boot, the dark gardener adjusted the brim of his hat and set out to leave.

But not before Persephone caught his hand. She felt him start and ignored the bewildered gaze that pierced through the mesh veil and into her own eyes.

'Here,' fishing through her pouch, she retrieved a small glass tub and placed it in his hand.

'Take this,' her voice was just above a whisper, 'this is a sun-protection salve. Apply it, not too much of it, and your skin will not be susceptible to the sun's harsh rays. I trust it will be of use to you.'

She gently gripped his hand, her eyes glittering as she looked up at him.

'Mr. Traveller, I will come back here in a few days to watch these flowers die in your absence, so they will not be lonely as they do. Thank you for offering me that honour.'

Releasing his hand, Persephone gazed one last time at the strange flowers and they mused over her curiously as she treaded towards the forest.

'My name is Persephone,' she said before she could get far, 'I want you to have use for it in the future.'

Her delicate form disappeared into the thick brush of the forest, the tinkling of glass following her as she went.

Lifting the mesh veil and exposing a face damp with sweat and filled with colour, Hades felt his heart thunder in his chest.


End file.
